Yet he found himself out on a walk about the grand Gatherford Park grounds on a winter afternoon. The sun blazed in the monotone sky but the chill temperature ensured that Owen did not feel it.
The snow had held off and Owen had been prevailed upon to join the residents of the estate on a walk. The cool air’s invigorating properties had been the bait to entice him. Owen had still been tempted to refuse until he learned that another certain resident of the house would also be joining them.
He stared at her now, bundled in a simple but thick pelisse, her arm threaded through Lady Neil’s. The path was large enough for the two ladies to walk ahead side by side while the men remained a few steps behind. Though Owen could not see Miss Davies’s face, he could hear her soft voice conversing with her mistress about the scenery, household plans, new fashions, and other minor subjects.
“Dear, are you sure you’re quite alright?” Lord Neil called out to his wife once again. They hadn’t been on their walk long, but the baron certainly seemed apprehensive about having his very pregnant wife out in the elements though she was thoroughly bundled as well.
“Yes, my love, I am quite well. I so hate to be cooped up in the house and I am still very capable of taking a simple walk,” Lady Neil responded over her shoulder, smiling patiently at her husband. “Besides, who knows how long this weather will last? Surely the snow will be coming soon and we’ll have no choice but to be cooped up.” She craned her neck to look up at the sky as if searching for the first sign of snowflakes.
“I must say I quite agree, Lady Neil,” Owen blurted. “Being out of doors is always so refreshing when one can take advantage of it.”
“It that so?” Davies asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice. He looked over at Owen with raised eyebrows, his chin lifting into the air. He knew he’d caught Owen in a lie. Or at least he thought he did. “I thought you hated winter, Captain Jessup? I’m surprised being out of doors during this season is at all agreeable to you.”
Owen had to resist the urge to roll his eyes and thank goodness, too, for Miss Davies peeked over her shoulder curiously at him.
“Of course I find it agreeable to walk out of doors in winter if I can do it in such lovely company. In truth, I prefer to be active out of doors; my main objection to winter is that it puts an end to so many of my favorite pastimes.”
Owen smiled to himself at his sound answer. Davies would not catch him out this time, as they so often tried to do to each other. And his answer was only the truth. He did hate being trapped indoors. He was a man of action and activity, preferring horseback rides or driving the carriage or hunting to any activity that could be found within the walls of a home. But during winter, he had to be more selective about his hobbies and when he participated in them.
“My favorite season must be summer. Some will say it is too hot to enjoy, but I don’t mind the heat at all. Ealy summer in London is always so exciting,” Lady Neil offered, looking back and forth over the browning landscape of naked trees and dying grass. “What about you, Violet?”
“O-oh...” Miss Davies stuttered before falling into a thoughtful silence. She seemed surprised at being directly addressed while her master and mistress showed the guests around though she had been invited on the walk as well.
“Spring. I like waking up each day and seeing more flowers appear, seeing the grass grow greener and taller. It really is like a rebirth. Just when it seems that winter will never end, when you’ve almost forgotten how bright and lively the world can be, spring surprises you.”
Owen smiled at her response, her voice so gentle and quiet he almost didn’t hear. In fact, it sounded almost as though she spoke to herself, forgetting that she was surrounded by company.
Following suit, Davies and Lord Neil both shared their own thoughts on the seasons but Owen hardly paid them any mind. Miss Davies captured his attention, even if he could only catch glimpses of her round cheeks and soft looking lips and curved chin beneath her bonnet.
The more he thought of her response, the more he realized how thoughtful and observant the young lady was. After their dinner on the day he and Davies had arrived, he’d had very few opportunities to speak with her. It was a terrible shame that their fortnight neared its end. Her mistress had given her time off each day to spend with Davies. Sometimes Owen joined them, but even then, the siblings’ conversation primarily involved each other. He knew this was perfectly normal as they had over a decade to catch up on and he was only a tagalong stranger.
And Miss Davies did seem rather engrossed in her work. He came across her at times around the house but she was always rushing this way and that or so focused on the task at hand that he did not feel it right to interrupt her. Beyond being a very intelligent and well-spoken young lady, Miss Davies was also a dedicated employee who served her family with pride.
The conversations within the party floated in and out of Owen’s attention. Everything seemed to quieten as he observed Miss Davies. He felt out of sorts, a strange sickly feeling settling into his stomach. Regret, he realized. He did not want to leave so soon.
That thought sent a ripple of anxiety down Owen’s spine.
“Jessup? Whatever is the matter with you?” Davies’s voice sounded brash against Owen’s ears, pulling him away from his troubling thoughts.
“What’s that now?” Owen shook his head and refocused his attention on his friend.
“You’ve fallen quite behind. I wouldn’t have noticed it if the baron hadn’t pointed it out.” Frank nodded further up the path where the rest of the party continued, their hosts and Miss Davies now walking side by side. Lord Neil now guided his wife, leaving Miss Davies’s arm unoccupied. For a distressing moment Owen wished to loop his arm around hers and walk beneath the barren branches that he imagined looked lush and vibrant in the spring.
“My goodness, I had no idea you cared so little for me. I could have fallen down a ditch and you probably wouldn’t have noticed my absence until dinnertime.” Owen gave his friend a slap on the shoulder and picked up his pace to regroup with the rest of their party.
Lord Neil heard the crunch of their boots on the dry gravel and turned back toward his male companions. He said something to his wife before extracting his arm from hers and falling back to meet Owen and Davies, resuming their previous formation.
A wild desire overtook Owen and he nearly lurched forward as he saw Lady Neil hold out her arm for Miss Davies to take again, hoping that he could substitute his own instead. Though he realized that it might seem strange offering his arm to the maid rather than to the lady of the house.
Luckily, Lord Neil interrupted this foolish notion with a whispered question to Davies. “Lieutenant, how goes your progress with your sister? Lady Neil and I are more than happy to host both of you for the rest of the winter if that is agreeable to everyone. My wife is right, as she is about most things. It should begin snowing in earnest soon.”
Davies glanced up nervously to the ladies walking before them, but they were far enough ahead and engrossed in their own conversation that they did not hear. His head drooped between his shoulders and he gazed at his boots, not bothering to hide the sadness in his eyes.
Owen felt the melancholy air about his friend and couldn’t help being affected by it as well. He looked at Miss Davies again but this time with a frown. He knew his friend still struggled to make headway with that stubborn young lady.
“Unfortunately, my lord, I do not think that will be necessary. But I thank you both for the kind offer. No, I imagine Captain Jessup and I will be departing at the appointed time. We are on better terms and we converse more easily. But I do not believe she will ever truly be warm to me. I think the best I can hope for at this point is the occasional correspondence. I do not wish to force her into accepting me as her brother again, so it is best we leave as planned.”
Davies kicked at a rock in the path and sighed as he confessed his dashed hopes. He looked ahead to his sister with such a heart-wrenching sadness that Owen wrappe
d an arm about the lieutenant’s shoulders for a moment. He so hated to see his friend in such a state, knowing that he was so close to accomplishing his mission but unable to bridge the gap.
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” Lord Neil nodded solemnly. “Perhaps she will still come around in time. These matters are very delicate and the human heart is a complex creature.”
The human heart was a complex creature indeed—an annoying, frustrating, foolish creature. Though he felt bad for his friend’s struggle, Owen wondered if perhaps it was best to leave now. His mind took him to strange, uncomfortable places where Miss Davies was concerned and he did not wish to give them any more time to strengthen.
“Is there anything I can do to help bring you comfort?” The baron asked Davies. “Might I suggest a hunt? I confess I do not often hunt. My father was much more of a sportsman than I so I know my property is excellent for hunting.”
“A wonderful idea!” Frank exclaimed immediately. “Hunting is a favorite pastime of mine and Captain Jessup’s. Jessup in fact is a very skilled marksman. It’s been so very long since I’ve enjoyed a hunt on a grand estate such as this. Perhaps a little thrill will take my mind off my struggles for a bit.”
Owen quickly offered his own hearty agreement. He did indeed love the hunt, but he also needed his mind taken off his own struggles.
“Then we shall set out early tomorrow.” Lord Neil smiled, pleased that he could offer some farewell entertainment to his guests.
All Owen had to do was find other ways to distract himself until tomorrow morning.
Blast it all, Owen cursed silently to himself. He had missed yet another shot and startled all the animals in the vicinity away once more.
“Tough luck, Jessup,” Davies muttered as he clapped Owen on the shoulder. The lieutenant shrugged at Owen with a puzzled expression.
The situation was so unusual that even Davies could not find joy in teasing his friend for being a poor shot. One poor shot might have emboldened Davies to offer some snide remarks to his friend. But dozens of poor shots in a row was nearly unthinkable for a man with Owen’s marksmenship.
Davies looked positively embarrassed for Owen. Owen gritted his teeth and trudged forward behind the baron who led them to another spot in the distance where they could try again.
Even Lord Neil fared better than Owen.
This hunt had been far from the distraction Owen had longed for. Since their walk yesterday, it had taken all of Owen’s willpower to suppress any thoughts of Miss Davies, always returning his mind to the hunt.
But he could not escape her even out here. Her sometimes sweet and sometimes stubborn face floated into his mind’s eye when he should have been preparing his shot. Her voice swam through his thoughts, replaying the few phrases he’d had the opportunity to hear her speak.
Owen was no fool. He knew by now what this meant. What had started as a simple admiration for the young woman in the face of such a jarring situation accompanied by many painful memories transformed into something else.
Not just admiration, but interest. And Owen could not tolerate interest.
His mind felt stretched thin as he both longed to stay and learn more about the intriguing maid and longed to run away and put an end to this nonsense.
But soon it would not matter and Owen could return to his usual activities and thoughts. He and Davies were scheduled to leave the day after next.
Their hunting excursion did not last much longer and for once Owen was glad to see it come to an end. His growing frustration only made it more difficult for him to focus. The three men returned to the house in near silence. Perhaps they sensed that Owen was in no mood for conversation. The sooner he could get himself back to his guest room with a fire lit, a warm change of clothes, and a packed suitcase the better.
Lord Neil left his guests to their own devices in the foyer, going off in search of his wife to check on her health. Owen wandered with Davies about the house, listening to his friend lament about their poor luck. Every word grated on Owen’s nerves. He knew Davies spoke primarily of Owen’s performance.
He was so distracted by trying to keep himself from blurting out the real reason for his sudden lack of skill that he did not realize they’d wandered all the way to the servants’ hall. Owen stopped in his tracks once he noticed his boots clacking on hard stone instead of polished wood.
“Davies, what are we doing down here in the servants’ area? If you need something just ring for it.”
“Oh, I thought we could tell Violet about our hunting excursion," Davies answered with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
“Or do you mean to say you wish to tell her that you shot better than the famously talented captain?” Owen mumbled, hardly able to keep his annoyance at bay.
Davies scoffed. “Come now, even I would not expose you so harshly. Perhaps in a few years after the event becomes humorous. You would nearly punch any man who mentioned the latrine, remember? Now you laugh about it in good nature.”
In truth, that was not the only reason Owen wished to avoid the kitchens but he dare not confess that out loud. Let Davies believe it was only a matter of wounded pride.
“Don’t you think it rather unusual that the guests are showing themselves into the servants’ hall?”
“Perhaps, but these past two weeks have already fallen well outside the boundaries of what is normal. What harm could there be in visiting my sister down here?”
There could be plenty of harm in it for me. Owen grimaced as they rounded a corner and came into the main servants’ area.
There sat Miss Davies by the large fire, a notebook in her hands. She scribbled something across the page, so focused that she did not hear the two men enter. The orange and gold flames lit up her face and Owen could see that she seemed to greatly enjoy whatever she wrote. A small peaceful smile graced her lips and her eyes glowed in the firelight.
A jolt shot through Owen from head to toe and his mind ripped away from his present surroundings, transported to another fireside on a vastly different winter night.
He saw one of the many camps he’d spent countless freezing days and nights in. He saw his fellow soldiers going about their duties or trying to entertain themselves. He saw their wives, the ones who had followed their husbands to the battlefield, huddling around the campfires for warmth. He thought of the many thousands of other wives and sweethearts who had remained at home, sitting by their own fires and no doubt thinking of and praying for their husbands and beaus.
Owen squeezed his eyes shut to banish the memories and he returned to the servants’ hall of Gatherford Park.
Miss Davies still sat by the fire, unaware of anyone watching her, content to write in her notebook without any worries or fears.
“Let us not disturb her now,” he whispered to his friend. “She looks quite engrossed in whatever it is she’s doing. I’m sure she has little enough time to herself as it is.”
Frank nodded his agreement and turned back down the hall while Owen followed behind.
But just before they went around the corner, Owen looked over his shoulder. He took in the peace and warmth that emanated from Miss Davies as she looked lovingly down at her notebook, her pen gliding across the page with ease.
The image felt bittersweet to Owen as he tore his eyes away and marched down the hall. Though his interaction with her had been minimal, Owen knew that Miss Davies was an uncommon young lady in all the best ways—save perhaps for her stubborn streak, but he could not blame her for her guarded attitude.
He admitted to himself that he was sad to leave her forever without having a chance to sufficiently know her. But he knew this was the right way. If he really knew her, it would make it that much harder to part eventually.
And if she already held this power over Owen, he knew he could not remain near her for long.
Here at Gatherford Park she was safe. She was warm. She was happy. As she should be.
Owen’s duty necessitated forgoing all those luxuries
at times. But he loved and served his country first and foremost. He would not force someone he cared about to endure the possible heartache that such a life entailed.
Chapter 5
Violet could barely see out the window of the foyer as the heavy snowfall swirled against the panes. The wind howled like a crazed animal, seeping into the house and chilling every room despite the many lit fires fighting to keep the residents and guests of Gatherford Park warm.
“What awful timing...” She lamented to herself as she paced at the window.
Frank and Captain Jessup were scheduled to leave tomorrow but that would obviously be impossible if this weather continued. The storm had started in the morning and continued to rage all day.
A pinch of guilt made her stomach turn. Of course she did not want to risk harm to the two guests if they did venture out in such unfavorable conditions. But nor did she want them to remain here any longer than they’d agreed.
Violet decided to take her nervous energy to the servants’ hall and find something to occupy her hands and mind. But instead she found Mrs. Baird carefully stoking the fire as two footmen and one of the kitchen maids huddled around it.
“Ah, Violet. Why don’t you come by the fire, dear? Warm yourself up a bit before you go back upstairs.”
“Thank you but I’ll be fine here. I’d just like to work on my sewing for a while.” Violet gave a tight smile and made her way to the cupboards to retrieve her work.
“Have a seat first. You do not look well,” Mrs. Baird insisted as she approached Violet, taking Violet’s hand and leading her to the table before she could open her cupboard. “Tell me.”
For a moment Violet contemplated lying and insisting she was well. But if she’d learned anything about Mrs. Baird since she’d joined the Neil family servants, it was that the woman had a far too keen eye and she would uncover any truth if she deemed it necessary to uncover.
Healing the Captain's Heart: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 2) Page 5